


breathe me in and hold me close

by evaneddie



Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, injured tk, spoilers for 1.08
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-22 23:16:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23001967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evaneddie/pseuds/evaneddie
Summary: each chapter is one or more characters going to visit tk in the hospital after the events of 1.08
Relationships: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand, Grace Ryder/Judd Ryder (9-1-1 Lone Star), Marjan Marwani/Mateo Chavez
Comments: 23
Kudos: 184





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this will only be like three chapters or so. it'll have some firefam, tarlos, the ryders, and more.  
> this chapter is basically just marjeo fluff and comfort.  
> hope you enjoy, let me know 💖

He doesn't really know what pulls him from his slumber tonight. Initially, it had taken him forever to drift off, the stress from the last day playing heavily on his mind, and glancing at the harsh red numbers on the alarm clock next to his pillow, he realises he hadn't been out for long. Words had always given him a hard time, but numbers were his thing, so it barely takes a few seconds to calculate that he'd gotten maybe forty-five minutes of shut eye - at most. At the least it's barely been ten minutes, but you can never put much of an exact time on your sleep schedule unless you have some kind of monitor.

Lazily walking out of the bunk room and into the kitchen, he rubs at his eyes, ridding the mild crust that had built up. The light in the kitchen is dim, not straining his eyes at the sudden change of exposure, but it is bright enough so he can see where he's going in the middle of the night. 

Maybe a night time run would help him calm down enough to sleep, maybe even tire him out enough. There's something about opening the door to the refrigerator in the middle of the night and just staring blankly into it. He's not quite sure what it is, but it gives the illusion of relaxation. It's dumb, whatever.

Mateo grabs his water bottle from its space in the door, and uncaps the lid to take a swig as he closes the fridge again. It soothes the rough constriction of his throat, cooling his insides steadily. As he's about to put in his earphones and head off downstairs, he notices a small figure sitting at the dining table out of his peripheral vision.

Smiling when he sees it's Marjan, he takes a step toward her, wondering if the same thoughts are taunting her heavily, making it hard to doze off. She's delicately moving her fingers in a smooth motion, painting them a dark colour. There's not too much concentration etched into her face, but more a blank look, like she's zoning out.

"Hey, what are you doing up?" he asks, pulling out the chair adjacent to where she sits.

She returns the smile, watching as he places his phone and water bottle down on the table. "Couldn't sleep, you?"

"Same, too much thinking, and I can't stop." 

The only response he gets is a slight nod of her head, her pink hijab moving with her. If she hadn't looked so tired and out of it, she would be ready for just about anything. But with TK still unconscious in the hospital and the rest of the 126 - excluding Owen who still sits by his son's bed - were on a twenty-four hour shift, Mateo thinks neither of them will be getting much shut eye tonight.

"Marjan?" Mateo speaks, his voice trembling and bottom lip quivering before he bites it lightly to get it to stop.

Looking up from the last nail she paints, her eyes soften around the edge, like she knows he's about to ask her something serious. 

"Do you think TK's gonna - TK will die?" Shit, the words spill out of his mouth and he wants to be sick instantaneously, wants to curl into a ball and cry.

Not only had the team recently found out about the captain's lung cancer, and adopted a dog with the same type of growth, but now TK is fighting for his life. Sure the doctors say that he's currently stable, but anything could happen, and he still hasn't woken up yet so the extent of the damage - if any - to his brain all sits in the air, like that stupid cat he heard about once in high school. The one that's both alive and dead inside a closed box, until you open it. Except, in this case, TK is both fine and not fine, until he wakes up, and they find out the verdict. That's if he does awaken.

A tear slips from his eye and he swipes at it angrily, not mad at himself for crying, but mad about the entire situation. 

Pain is all he can see in his friend's eyes at his words, pain and fear. Something he's understanding the sensation of a little too well right now.

"I want to tell you that everything is going to be okay, that there's nothing to worry about, but I don't know that for a fact, and I can't lie to you," she whispers, twisting the lid back onto one of the two colours of polish she has sitting to her right. "I can't lie to you, Mateo. I don't know if he's going to be okay. I don't know what's going to happen next."

Asking her that question hadn't meant to sound so blunt. Really he'd just been thinking out loud, not expecting an answer anyway. "Sorry," he mumbles, dropping his eyes to stare at her freshly painted fingernails.

"Hey, don't apologise. Look, I don't know if things are going to get better. But what I do know is this; TK is a stubborn idiot, and he's a fighter," she begins again with a soft laugh at calling him stubborn, pulling one from Mateo too. "No matter what happens, we are all going to get through it, together."

Nodding solemnly, he knows she's right. She usually is, but he won't be telling her that. It takes him by surprise when she places her left hand on top of both his, rubbing a soothing thumb over his knuckles, trying to ground both him and herself. It works to a small extent, keeping his mind from floating away and onto bad thoughts and worst case scanarios. 

"That's a nice colour," states Mateo, looking for a distraction. 

He hasn't moved his hands yet, not wanting to lose the contact, and it seems Marjan doesn't either as she moves to grab the bottle with her free hand to inspect the label. She's probably already read it before, but she takes in the words anyhow, before reading them aloud for him.

"Deadly seaweed, strangest colour name ever."

He couldn't agree more, though he doesn't know what normal is for polish shade names. It looks really nice and goes well with her skin tone.

After a beat of silence, she talks again. "Want me to paint yours for you?" It's a genuinely curious question, no hint of teasing or probie hazing evident in her tone anywhere.

Huh. He'd never thought about having his nails done before. Not even as a kid when his sisters were growing up and decorating their bodies with makeup, nail polish, and jewellery. 

"I can do that?" he questions, still unsure if he should do it. 

"Of course, nail polish doesn't make you anything. It's just a colour." 

True. Just a colour. 

"If you don't like it, I can remove it easily. But if you don't want it, that's cool too," she continues, not dropping her smile as he looks back up at her face for the first time since he sat down.

Her beautiful brown eyes are sad, and he can see she probably needs this just as much as he does.

"Let's do it," Mateo laughs with a nod. 

Letting go of his hand, she reaches for a blue cardboard tool, and he gives her a look of confusion, tilting his head as if to silently ask what it is.

From then, she talks him through every step. "This is an emery board, or a nail file. It'll just help neaten this mess u have going on here."

The contact of Marjan's fingers holding his tightly sends a chill up his arm, making his spine tingle as it winds its way down. Lying to himself is not something he often does, so he can certainly admit that he has been crushing on her for the last few months, and that each day it seems to grow a little stronger, blossoming a garden in his heart. Out loud, on the other hand? No, he could never tell a soul, especially not the woman in question.

The sound of his nails being practically sanded down is not a nice one, but it's over pretty soon, and for that he's thankful. 

"Which colour would you like?" she quizzes. 

Would it be ridiculous to choose the same one as her? Not just because it's be cool to match, but he does liek it better than the baby blue shade that also sits on the table at the ready.

"Green, please." At least it sounded more confident out loud than it did in his mind.

"Okay, well I've lightly gone over the tops of your nails too, so the colour should last a little longer." Her smile is radiant warmth, and he melts into her touch.

This is so much nicer than going for a run at three in the morning. There's a small part of him that taps incessantly in the back of his mind, wondering what it would be like to hold her hand for real, not just so she can paint his nails successfully. It nags him to speak his true feelings, but the other part of him, the more logical side, overshadows that and convinces him not to ruin a perfectly good friendship.

Watching intently as she moves the brush across his nails, gliding effortlessly and leaving a deep colour behind, he gets lost in a sort of trance, breathing evenly and unwinding from the tension in his body and brain. The paint hasn't gone onto the skin around his nails once, and he's honestly both shocked and impressed.

"There, done. Don't touch anything, don't want you to mess them up." Her voice snaps him back to reality, momentarily forgetting everything his brain had been telling him all night.

Mateo lifts his hands closer to his face, inspecting Marjan's handiwork - pun not intended but definitely welcomed. He can't believe how much he actually likes how it looks on his hands, how good it makes him feel. Something so simple can be such a big thing, and now he wants this feeling more often.

"Thank you," he says, "I love it, Marjan."

Without warning, her hand is cupping his cheek, her thumb caressing his cheekbone under his eye. He smiles wider than ever at the softness of her touch. "We will go visit him tomorrow after our shift, okay?"

"Yeah, sounds good," he replies, wanting nothing more than to turn his face into her palm more, but he doesn't want to overstep.

Letting go, she gently taps the tip of his nose with her pointer finger and grins back at him. Reaching for her own phone, she unwinds the wires of her earphones and offers one to Mateo, which he accepts. 

They sit there for the next few hours just listening to the music on her Spotify playlists, and it's the best sleepless night he's ever had, all things considered.

He really hopes TK - his brother - is going to make it through this.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> carlos ad owen haven't left tk's side the entire time, and they have a heart to heart, which turns into carlos attempting to awaken tk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope y'all like this chapter. i'll have more of the 126 reuniting soon, i don't want to overwhelm tk by having them all barge in at once. not when he's just woken up.
> 
> let me know your thoughts 💖

Carlos hasn't left TK's side from the moment he was able to get away from the crime scene at the house and touch TK with his own hands. Never before had he felt that kind of immense fear and angst, it had hit him like a tonne of bricks, and until TK wakes up, it's not going to fade. Hell, even when TK wakes up, the feeling will still be there, niggling in the back of his mind. He'd never been so scared before the moment he'd heard that TK was hit, and he (Carlos) gets shot at for a living.

Fuck, he's just a firefighter, these kinds of things aren't meant to happen to him. If anyone should be getting shot, it's Carlos, he's the cop. The heaviness of his eyelids are pulling him deeper into the edge of sleep, teetering cautiously in that area between consciousness and blacking out. Fighting sleep is something he's pretty experienced at, sometimes able to withstand almost two full days without succumbing to it. But things are different at this point in time. Not only had the stress of the events made him feel exhausted, but crying for what seemed like days on end - when in reality had only been about six hours - will also do that to you.

For the last three hours or so, the officer had not stopped gently carding his fingers through the thick dark hair on TK's head, a gesture he finds mildly soothing, knowing that if TK were awake the movements would lull him to sleep. It's something he's done before after a tiring shift as they lay in bed, spent from their _extra curricular_ activities.

Carlos had called out of work today, shooting a quick text to his captain, and he got an understanding response not long after. He knows he can't stay here forever, but he's sure as hell going to be by TK's side for as long as possible. The hand that isn't playing with TK's brunette hair holds his hand, interlocked fingers and slowly circulating thumb. He holds it as though it's his own lifeline, and mentally, he guesses it kind of is. Soft kisses and soothing nothings he whispers into the knuckles of TK's hand, and he couldn't care less that Owen is there on the other side of the bed, hearing every word.

"Baby, you gotta wake up for me. Even just for a second. Please, Tiger." The words on his mouth, cutting his tongue, they burn with every emotion he's been feeling. 

"I need you to open those beautiful green eyes of yours," he mutters into the air.

Feeling Owen's eyes on him, he looks up from TK's face, and takes in the tired features of the older man. His expression is damn near unreadable. A mix of sadness which is to be expected, and something else that Carlos can't quite place a finger on. Perhaps it's pride? But for what? Or maybe he's wrong.

"Carlos, he's gonna get through this, and we will be right by his side every step of the way, no matter the outcome." Owen is right in saying that they will be by his side no matter what, but Carlos doesn't know how the father can be so sure his son is going to make it out of this. "He's headstrong, like his momma. A fighter."

Nodding at the words, Carlos realises that they're probably more for Owen himself than Carlos, that he's trying to convince himself that everything is going to be dandy even if they have no idea the reality of it.

"Like you, too. He's a lot like you."

"Thanks, kid," Owen says earnestly.

Unsure if TK has told his dad anything about the two of them - their relationship, or whatever it is - Carlos inhales deeply and decides on explaining his deeply rooted worry for TK and how it goes past that of friendship.

"Sir?" he says, attempting to get Owen's attention drawn from the patient in the pristine white bed. Owen looks at him with a sad smile, tears swimming in the lower lids of his eyes. "I'm not sure if TK has told you about- about us."

He's really struggling to find the right words here. They're not boyfriends, not yet. It's possible that some day they will be, when TK is ready. But that day isn't now. No matter how much Carlos wishes it were.

"He hasn't, other than the fact that you guys hang out a lot. But I can take a guess," the older man responds, nodding his head toward the hand Carlos holds in his own. "Look, you don't have to explain yourself to me, I can see that you care, and I know it's been good for him. Slowly, with therapy and spending time with you, he's becoming more like his old self."

"I do. I do care about him, so much more than I had been expecting," he says admittedly, dropping his eyes, a small blush forming on his cheeks.

"Does he know this?" Owen asks, his brows knitting together in the same way TK's do when he's genuinely curious about something.

They look so much alike, the father and son duo. Same jawline, same crinkle around the eyes with a smile or a laugh, and the way they care about others is not dissimilar. Their passion is almost a mirror image, and their stubbornness is an exact replica. TK looks so small and fragile under the white sheets, so no there in his hospital gown, and it tugs at Carlos' heartstrings.

"I haven't directly told him, but I would hope he knows I like him a lot." No, that's not the right words, he has to say it out loud, finally. "Um, actually, I think I'm falling in love with him. I can't tell him that, though. I don't want to spook him, I know he's been going through some heavy shit the last few months, and it'll be even more when he wakes up. I've been letting him set the pace, letting him take control of the situation so he doesn't feel closed in. But I hope that one day we can be more."

Ceasing his fingers from their ministrations in his hair, he pulls his hand to his own neck and rubs vigorously, uncomfortable with spilling his guts to the older man. He hasn't even said any of this to Michelle, and she's his best friend in every sense of the term.

Owen smiles at him again, a wet one, as a tear slips down his cheek. "I'm so glad he has you, Officer Reyes."

"Oh, sir, please call me Carlos," the man in question replies.

"Only if you stop calling me sir."

A beat.

"Deal," Carlos laughs.

It's a dumb idea he has, to talk to TK and tell him directly everything he just told the other man, and more. But somewhere inside of him, deep down underneath all the sorrow from the last two days, he wonders if it could bring TK back to Earth, back to his plane of existence.

"Maybe tell him now," suggests Owen, seemingly able to read Carlos' thoughts. That's scary. He'll make sure to keep replaying only their PG13 moments in his mind instead of those that aren't quite hospital friendly.

So he does. With soft hands tracing unintelligible maps on the flesh of TK's arm, he speaks quietly, almost in a volume that could be considered silent. All he wants is for TK to wake up and be okay. What he wouldn't give for that to happen. If he had to, like really had no other choice, he would bargain with the universe, he would promise to stay out of TK's life if the man got to live and be healthy. Sure, it would break him, but he would do anything for the guy he loves.

Hopefully it doesn't come to that.

If it does however, he will do whatever it takes to keep TK safe and well.

He sniffles slightly, fighting back the tears that sting his eyes. "Tiger, please wake up," starts Carlos' broken voice.

"Would you like some privacy, Carlos?" asks the older Strand man.

Thinking for a moment, Carlos decides that he doesn't want to be left alone right now, not sure if he'd be able to keep himself held together. Already, he's splitting at the seams, and slowly he can feel each drop of hope he has dripping away. "No, please stay si- Owen." 

If Owen notices the almost slip of Carlos calling him sir again, he says naught about it. For something close to the hundredth time, Carlos places his lips against his partner's palm.

Owen stays, for TK, for himself, and for Carlos. There's only silence from the man as Carlos talks, the words flowing freely from his lungs like a waterfall, as if he's gasping them out like it's his last moments breathing. 

"I want you to know how I feel about you. I have wanted to tell you for the last couple of months, but have never wanted to make you uncomfortable with it." Inhaling shakily, Carlos continues to trace nonsensical patterns on TK's skin, feeling how much cooler it is than normal, more than likely due to no movement in two days. That paired with the chilly air-conditioning the hums lowly throughout the hospital.

"You mean so much to me. Before you, things were okay, nothing to write home about," he begins as he shuts his eyes and squeezes them closed as hard as he can. 

"The way your laugh can brighten my day in an instant, the way you pretend to love egg for me when I cook, I love how your eyes light up when you see me. That's the best part, knowing that I make you feel somewhat similar to how you do for me." He's never just cracked himself open like this, being vulnerable and admitting he's falling in love. Especially not in front of the father of the person he's falling for.

"I love that your favourite colour is yellow, that you call it a happy colour because it's the colour of the sunshine. I love how caring you are, even towards people that don't deserve it. Tyler Kennedy, you are strong, you hear me?" Once he's started, he doesn't want to stop, he just wants to keep talking like this until TK is fully alert. "I love you, cariño, and I need you to wake up so I can pretend that I never said any of this."

A gentle laugh from Owen fills Carlos' ears, making the police officer huff a chuckle too. 

"But if you pretend then how will I know how you feel about me?" comes the raspy voice of the one and only TK. It's rough from disuse and probably sore from the tubes he'd had in while he was under anaesthesia.

Shit. He's awake. And he heard everything? Well, none of that matters right now, the only thing of importance is TK waking up, his eyes blinking groggily trying to fight against the harsh light of the room.

Owen's head snaps up at the same time Carlos' does. "TK?" he asks, as if he's unsure he heard correctly. Then Owen has hands on TK's cheeks, and Carlos drops his from that area and focuses on the one hand he can still touch. The grip of TK's hand tightens a little, silently ensuring Carlos knows this is real.

"Oh my sweet baby boy." TK's now open eyes roll backward at those words, and Carlos finds the whole interaction really sweet. Watching their relationship these last few months had been something beautiful to see, the way the father & son duo care for one another and work so well together.

"Hey Dad," he whispers in return. Then, "Carlos."

A soft twinkle erupts across TK's lips, masking obvious signs of pain that he's in. 

When Owen announces that he's going to find a doctor and all but runs out the door, TK looks at Carlos with droopy eyes and says, "I really want you to kiss me right now."

It would be stupid not to oblige, so Carlos leans forward, pressing their lips together, smiling into it, moving his mouth slowly, trying not to put too much pressure or excitement on the patient. 

At that exact moment, they hear the clearing of a throat behind them and a meek, "sorry to interrupt," even though the shit eating grins on the both of their faces show that they're really not that sorry for disturbing the moment.

Marjan stands a whole foot shorter than Mateo, and unlike last time, they look happier, glad their friend, their family member is awake.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tk's awake, and the whole team sit around him chatting away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last part! kinda short but definitely sweet.  
> let me know how this chapter goes!

Judd and Grace are the next to arrive, rushing in like they remembered they left the stove on, hand in hand and smiles of relief on their faces. 

TK had managed to whisper a short sentence to Carlos, telling him they will talk later. After a few times of begging his dad, TK was able to convince him to get the whole team to come in at the same time. He was unsure if he had the energy to see them all one by one, it would just drag out longer than needed. According to the things Carlos had been telling TK, it seems they all would like to see him as soon as they could anyway.

Sturdy fingers find his hair, ruffling it with an "I'm glad you're okay, brother." Judd and he had not gotten along at first, but over time they grew closer, and now have an immense bond. TK couldn't be more grateful for that. When he'd worked in New York with Owen, their team had been close knit, but this one was a new type of intensity, like a real family. The thought alone of all these amazing people being his family plasters a goofy smile on his face, his brain for once not making him doubt things, but instead telling him that they all love him and are going to help him through life, just like he would if the tables were turned. Not just with his wounded chest, but with everything dark going on in his mind.

A good support system is the start of a speedy recovery.

Grace had placed her soft hand on his shoulder, and given his temple a kiss. He leans into her touch as much as he can without having to let go of Carlos' hand, and without straining his stitches too much. She smells nice, like a floral perfume that he remembers his mother used to wear when he was a kid. 

At the foot of his bed, Marjan leans into Mateo's side, and he wraps his arm around her shoulder. "Told you he's stubborn," she laughs, causing him to roll his eyes with a grin.

TK notices something different about their dynamic, but doesn't question it. However, he does point out the fact that Mateo has coloured nails. "Nice nails, Probie."

There's a flash of something on his face, something that makes it seem like he's scared of what everyone is going to say. Letting go of Marjan, he drops his head and mutters a reply. "Yeah, I uh- sleep, and- Marjan.."

It makes practically no sense, so TK pushes back in. "No, I'm not teasing, it suits you, really."

"Oh," the kid sighs, "thanks."

"TK?" calls another voice from the doorway. Paul stands there, with Michelle, Rosewater, and Gillian in tow.

They all look as happy to see him as he is to see them.

"Hey guys," he slurs, his brain starting to fog up again. He may not be on opioid based painkillers - which only means his pain still thrums lowly within him - but they still make him kind of sleepy, and the pain on top of it wouldn't be helping the situation.

Now all this socialising, which he would never complain about. He loves everyone that has puled into his small hospital room, probably becoming a fire hazard, which, is kind of ironic. 

There's soft chatter as everyone pulls up seats and sits around him, talking random topics with one another and with TK.

Michelle talks softly with TK's dad to his left, and he doesn't miss the bump Owen gives her knee with his own. Carlos is still to his right, not letting go of his hand, giving it a gentle thumb sweep every few minutes. Paul sits with Grace and Judd squished between Marjan and Michelle.

Rosewater and Gillian share the area at the end of the bed with Marjan and Mateo, all of them smiling happily now that the doctors have said TK is pretty much out of the woods.

He still has to heal, and that would take up some time, but as long as he sticks to the instructions he's given when he goes home in a few days, there should be no complications.

Even as he dozes off, he does so with a full heart and high hopes for better days ahead. 

* * *

Surely driving Carlos insane at this point, TK is more than ready to get out of this hospital bed, out of the gown, and inside four walls that aren't those of a medical area. 

Owen had left the room for a bathroom break and then to take some items from the overnight bags to the car, giving TK and Carlos the alone time they needed.

"Carlos?" TK speaks, his voice warm and smooth like honey, not like when he'd first woken in this godforsaken place.

"Yeah, Tiger?"

TK smiles at the nickname, loving how it's become a thing for them. "Did you mean what you said to me, as I was waking up?"

Swinging his legs over the edge, TK perches himself on the bed, facing Carlos. The latter stands from his seat in the plastic chair and places his hands on either side of TK's thighs.

"Every word of it, but nothing has to be different until you are ready, baby." How did he ever get so lucky? This is quite literally the sweetest man in the world, and he wants TK?

"I think I'm ready." Taking a breath, he shakes his head no. "No, I know I'm ready. Maybe not to say those exact words yet, but ready enough to be more."

Without a reply, Carlos leans in slowly, slipping his tongue through TK's lips the instant they connect. Their kisses are usually passion filled, lust driven. But this is different. Nice different. Yeah, he still would never want to give up the hot and steamy ones, but these would be nice to be a part of every now and then.


End file.
